


soul of the party.

by stitcho



Category: Ocean's (Movies)
Genre: Cute, F/F, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Flirting, Gen, I Tried
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 06:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14949494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitcho/pseuds/stitcho
Summary: when Debbie plans her next job, the last thing she imagines is meeting someone who will willingly make it easier.





	soul of the party.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm just a sucker for ocean's 8 and these two, even if i haven't been able to watch the movie yet. 
> 
> sorry about the lack of names in this and how confusing that may end up being, i just wanted to respect their anonymity towards each other until they finally met.

There’s a brunette girl leaning against a wall, pretending not to pay attention to what’s going on around her.

 

It is easy for her to remain unnoticed, as the world seems to be oblivious to her. It’s like she’s not even there, and that makes everything a thousand times easier. Danny doesn’t usually enjoy that privilege, as he seems to attract all eyes wherever he goes. He’s handsome, charming –for some–, overconfident, and has something that makes everyone trust him, something which, of course, makes his job so much easier. A distraction, a flick of the wrist, and then he’s good to disappear into the night, with the prize he’d set his eyes on inside one of his pockets. Yeah, shit’s easy when you can earn anyone’s trust in the span of a few seconds.

But, as it turns out, shit’s also easy when you can move around and not raise anyone’s suspicions for a whole different reason – because no one’s even looking at you.

 

The place? A party, with lots of drunk and high teenagers dancing and cheering and whooping. It’s noisy, dark, and filled to the brim with wallets stuffed in back pockets of worn out jeans. The girl standing against the wall has selected her targets what feels like ages ago, and is now simply waiting. Waiting for the right moment to join the dance floor, collect a few prizes, and leave through the back door.

 

The window comes and it all happens in no time: the joining the crowd, the dancing, the stealing. A drunk guy tries to grope her, she makes sure that he can’t hold anything else with that hand for the rest of the night. Some more stealing. And then, she makes herself invisible again, like it’s a superpower, and finds her way through sweaty, dancing, drunk bodies, until she’s a step away from being outside.

 

The door opens, closes, and she disappears into the dark alley, taking a deep breath once a cold breeze hits her face. _Time to walk away_ , she thinks, the weight inside the pockets of her jacket feeling oddly comforting. After all, it has been a productive night, and she's proud of herself. 

 

Already thinking about the next time, the brunette girl starts walking, but she'd barely taken three steps when a voice behind her sends a chill down her spine, and makes her stop on her tracks.

 

"I saw that." 

 

The voice is low, deep, with an accent of some sort clinging to those three words, and there is a hint of amusement in the way in they are said. Not anger, not suspicion, not even curiosity.  _Amusement._

 

The brunette turns around, narrowed eyes ready to face the owner of that voice, and if necessary, pay her off to keep her mouth shut. It would be a loose end, but most people would do anything for the right amount of money, if one knows what amount that is.

 

A blonde girl is leaning against the wall, right next to the door, which explains why the brunette hasn't seen her before. She looks around her same age, too, not a teenager anymore but not an adult either, but her attitude... Some strands of platinum blonde hair fall over her face, but they don't cover the grin on her lips, cocky, arrogant, overconfident. 

 

After a moment of simply staring at her, the brunette speaks. "What did you see?"

 

"You know," the blonde replies, with a vague gesture of her hand, almost reminding of the other's gestures in the dance floor. " _That_." 

 

Fingers push some brunette locks away from their owner's face, who casually shakes her head, stubbornly denying whatever accusations are being thrown her way.

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

And then, something happens. The blonde girl, still resting against the wall, laughs. It's a deep, smooth sound, and it sends another shiver down the thief's spine, as she finds herself captivated by it. There's something in the stranger she can't help but be drawn to, something that calls to a part buried deep inside her. She's almost tempted to step closer to her, to bring down her façade for just a moment so she can learn more about that other person.

 

Almost. 

 

The spell is broken the second the blonde steps away from the wall, hand coming up to ruffle her hair slightly. If she's felt that brief instant of tension, connection, whatever you want to call it, she doesn't show it, and when she speaks again, her voice is calm once more, like she's just ordering a drink instead of talking about stolen wallets.  
  


"You're good," is all she says, before opening the door that leads back into the club. The sound of music, cheers and clinking glasses fills the silence between them, and it briefly looks like none of them is going to say anything else about it, like they're going to leave it at that and walk away from each other, walking each her own path. 

 

However, right when she looks like she's about to disappear into the noise and the music and the smell of sweaty bodies, the blonde turns around, fingers retrieving her own wallet from the inner pocket of the blazer she's wearing. She fumbles with it for a moment, and all the brunette gets to see is a glimpse of green coming from the wallet, that disappears inside the blazer again. 

 

No more words are spoken until the stranger tosses the wallet at her, and it feels oddly light in the brunette's hands once it lands here, but she doesn't question it. She doesn't have time to do so, anyway, because that deep, alluring voice reaches her ears once more, and all the other noises disappear for as long as that sound lingers in the air between them.

 

"You forgot that one."

 

And with that, she winks at her and disappears into the club, leaving the thief standing alone in the middle of a dark alley, holding a wallet in her hands. 

 

Her instincts soon kick in, and she flees the crime scene, with the wallet carefully hidden inside a different pocket from the one she keeps all the others. Despite the leather not touching her skin, it feels like it does, like it burns her, and more than once a hand comes up to pat the outside of the jacket just to make sure it's still in there, just to make sure it hasn't burned a hole in the fabric and fallen onto the pavement without her noticing. 

 

It's not until almost an hour later, when she's alone in a safe place, that she allows herself to look at it more carefully. All the other wallets are piled neatly on the table in front of her, each one still filled with money, IDs, fake IDs and condoms. She hasn't touched them. Her eyes are fixed on the one she's not earned, the one she's been given, and she's almost certain it's empty, as it doesn't seem to weigh enough to have something inside. However, it takes the thief almost two more minutes to gather the courage to open it, and turn it outside down so its contents fall on the table.

 

A single piece of paper floats in the air for a second before landing under the wallet, neatly folded in half. And when the brunette opens it and reads whatever's written inside, the smile that appears on her face is big, sincere and happy, the first one like that she's showed the world in a long, long time.

 

When she decides to will herself to sleep, a long while later, the wallets are still piled on the table, empty now of anything that might have a value. Next to them, in a whole different pile, one of its own, the wallet belongng to the blonde girl, and on top of it, a piece of paper, now slightly wrinkled at the corners, like someone has picked it up to read it several times. On it, a single word and a phone number can be read.

 

A word that's already burned into the brunette's mind, even as she sleeps, dreaming about nightclubs and money and blondes with deep voices and eyes that pierce into her soul.

 

**Lou.**

**Author's Note:**

> so, what did you think about it? it's my first time writing debbie, lou, and something like this, actually, so feel free to drop a comment and let me know if you like it so i can stop being insecure about it.
> 
> also, if anyone likes it and wants me to turn it into a multi-chapter story, feel free to tell me too.  
> and if you have a story suggestion or a prompt you'd like me to write about, those are welcome as well. 
> 
> happy ocean's 8 month, everyone!


End file.
